The Quintessential High School AU
by ShamelessOCcentricity
Summary: Michael is living in a motel while attending his senior year; Fisk is not going to be friends with the rich boy in his classes; Kathrine struggles to come to terms with her sexual orientation; Judith gets into trouble for fighting the social system; and Rosamund is just so pretty it's like a disability. Oh, and then there's the school play.
1. Chapter 1

**Michael is living in a motel while attending his senior year; Fisk is **_**not**_** going to be friends with the rich boy in his classes; Kathrine struggles to come to terms with her sexual orientation; Judith gets into trouble for fighting the social system; and Rosamund is just so pretty it's like a disability. Oh, and there's the school play.**

There were rich, gifted kids and there were the poor kids whose line had died out. They stuck together, in two noticeably separate groups. It'd been about fifty years since the schools were forced to mix because of equal rights groups. Not much had changed between the two social classes otherwise.

One of the most influential families in the school was the Sevenson family; Aaron Sevenson hadn't been born particularly wealthy, but he'd clawed his way to the top. His daughter, Kathryn, was possibly the most sought-after girl in the school, despite her mousy hair, a gangly form, and crooked glasses. She was extremely Gifted and clever, but not particularly pretty. Her brothers had all graduated, with the exception of the youngest Sevenson brother, Michael. Michael was reasonably good looking and even Gifted, but the Gift was passed on through the second X chromosome, and he didn't get on very well with anyone else. He was rather shy and too opinionated for most of the other rich people.

Probably the least liked and poorest family in the school was the Fisk family—the oldest of the girls, Anna, was dating an college sophomore named Max, who wasn't Gifted, but did have a good deal more money than the Fisks. Then there was Judith, who was sarcastic and tough, but almost never seen apart from the youngest daughter. Lizzy was a freshman, pretty and friendly and maybe a bit too likeable. And then there was Nonny. Nonny, short for Nonopherian, was the only boy. He refused to answer to anything but Fisk after 5th year.

Fisk was not well liked. His only defence against the rest of the world was a tough attitude and his ability to con his way out of nearly anything. That wasn't to say he was unintelligent, naturally; actually, he was probably smarter than 90% of the school's population. He was in all advanced classes and read classical literature in his free time. He was reasonably attractive as well; the sort that mothers prayed would come home with their daughters and daughters only went out with to make the boys they actually wanted to date jealous. Not that Fisk had really dated anyone—he'd gone to a dance with Lucy in seventh year, and there had been Jack in freshman year, but neither could really be considered relationship material.

So the fact that Mrs Cecil put Michael and Fisk next to one another in her homeroom AP Psychology class was either pure genius or absolute insanity—though the fact that they had perfectly matching schedules is purely a cosmic sense of humour.

"Ooh," Judith said as she looked over Fisk's shoulder at the Facebook page. "_Michael Sevenson_ 'wants to know who has a class with him'. Can't imagine who else would be taking AP Psych, AP English, Theatre, AP Calculus, AP Physics, and AP Government… Really, Nonny? Theatre?"

"It helps with cons," He yawned.

Anna thwacked him over the head as she walked by. "Fisk, if you put 'con artist' on your papers again this year, I will not talk to the guidance councillors about your unusual sense of humour again."

"It helps if you don't say that every single year," Judith pointed out.

Lizzy giggled and ducked her head.

Quite the different scene was going on in the Sevenson household.

"When did you enrol in Theatre?" Aaron demanded.

Michael met his gaze unflinchingly, to his credit. "After you signed it, I went back and erased my elective choice. I decided shop class was superfluous, given that I already know how to take care of Chant, and that's the only care I'll ever need."

"Only twinks take theatre," His mother said.

"Benny took theatre!" Michael protested.

"Benny wears sweater vests," She sniffed, as though that were the deciding factor of sexual orientation. "We gave up on getting grandchildren from him long ago."

There was a quiet throat clearing from the doorway. "Benny is metrosexual, which means he cares about fashion but still likes girls. And homosexuals can adopt children. Additionally, extra-curricular activities don't determine one's sexual orientation."

"All these fancy new words," Aaron said. "There's straight and there's gay, and that's that."

Kathryn opened her mouth, then closed it and bit her lip. If tears were welling up behind the glasses, her father didn't notice. He was already regarding his youngest son with a fierce stare once again. "I want you to drop out and take something useful. You're not becoming an actor, Michael. There's no point taking this class," He said.

"I could," Michael argued. "I can be anything I choose."

"Did I stutter?" Aaron hissed.

"No, sir."

"Then—"

"But I refuse," Michael continued calmly. "I have taken every class required for my advanced diploma, and I got into Harvard. Now I want to take a class I'll enjoy."

"You're still living under my roof—you will do as I _say_."

Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Michael stood up and walked away.

"I am not done speaking to you!"

"Oh, but I am."

Aaron had a moment of silent outrage, and then stormed after his son with Lisabeth on his heels.

"Please don't fight," Kathryn says to the empty sitting room.

"You're Kathryn Sevenson," Someone said from behind her.

Kathy closed her locker to see Judith Fisk leaning against the locker beside hers. "Yeah. Judith, right?"

"Your brother and my brother are in all the same classes."

"Yeah," Kathy said.

"I'm in their Theatre class. Hacked the roll sheet, and surprise-surprise, there's your name."

"You can hack?" She said, eyes wide. Then she shook her head. "Um, yeah. My dad was being really mean about Michael taking the class, so I decided to take it with him."

Judith's eyes narrowed. "A lot of non-Gifted people think that nothing ever goes wrong in Gifted families—propaganda and all."

"A lot Gifted people pretend that's the case," Kathy allowed.

The other girl grinned, somewhere between shark and Cheshire Cat. "See you around, Sevenson."

"Fisk, Sevenson," Mrs Cecil said.

Fisk froze as Michael moved to sit down at the desk she'd pointed to. _This sick twisted bitch is performing a social experiment on her students_, he realised. _Fuck_.

"What?!" One of the Gifted girls hissed. Fisk shot her a glare as he went to sit down with Michael.

"Hello," Michael said politely. "I'm Michael," He held out a hand, which Fisk ignored. Personally, he reckoned it was showing remarkable restraint to not say _well duh_ to the introduction. "Uh… You're a junior, right? You must be in really advanced classes to match my schedule so exactly. Guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this year."

"Believe it or not, normal people can be smart too," Fisk snapped.

Michael stared at him, something akin to anger flashing just below the surface for one long dragged-on moment. Then, "I know."

Fisk rolled his eyes and opened his book—today was a rather worn copy of _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_.

"You're reading the introduction?" Michael hissed. "No one reads those!"

_You interrupted my reading_, Fisk thought violently. Out loud, without looking away from his page, "It's very cleverly written."

Michael fought a grin. "You're _re_reading the foreword?"

"Okay, um, wow. Look, Sevenson. I read books to avoid idiots like you, 'kay? I'm sure you live in a happy, naïve little world where we can get along, but I'm really not interested in anything but getting out of this bloody school. Understand?"

"I have a book I reread a lot," Michael said. "It's called _The Sword in the Stone_. Suppose you've read it?"

"Sentimental, overly Christianised crap," Fisk replied calmly, turning the page. "Chaucer is better."

He stared at Fisk. Finally, "I like Poirot better than Holmes."

There was a thud as the book was closed a bit too violently. "You _what_?" He said lowly. Then he raised his hand. "Mrs Cecil? I can't sit here."

"On what grounds?" She asked, lips twitching. _Bitch_, Fisk thought again.

"Blasphemy."

"Oh, for—Holmes is the better detective, alright? Happy?"

Fisk glared. "He's also a better _person_. How could you _ever_ like Poirot better?"

"Holmes is very rude."

"Hang on—have you read this?" Fisk demanded. "Have you read a single story?"

"No, but I've seen the movies."

"Yeah, well, my sisters watched _Merlin_—does that mean they can judge T H White?"

Both were distracted by Mrs Cecil, who was definitely smirking as she passed out papers. "Well, boys, I guess you'll have to agree to disagree."

Fisk took a paper and swore inventively.

_ALL SEATS ARE PERMANENT. STUDENTS WILL BE PARTNERED WITH THEIR TABLEMATE FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE SCHOOL YEAR._

Michael started laughing. Fisk's forehead hit his book with a _thunk_.

Kathy caught up to Michael in the courtyard on his way to study hall. "Here," She said as she thrust a duffle into his arms.

"What?" He asked, looking in confusion at the bag.

"More clothing, some extra cash, and your favourite books—I know it's not ideal, but might as well have your things. I got Benny to buy you a phone—it's cheap, but it'll work. I'll save the number under 'Abby' or some other innocuous name."

"I'm so sorry to leave you alone," Michael said. "I swear, the moment you're sixteen, we'll get you declared an adult and you can move in with me and I'll get another job so we can get a condo or—"

"You're rambling," She pointed out.

"I'm serious."

"I've got Rose. She's daft, but I won't be alone."

Michael hugged her briefly and then hurried to make his class before the bell rang.


	2. Not A Chapter I'm So Sorry

**Everything is on (possibly permanent) hiatus except my original work and my huge undertaking of a SPN fic on AO3, so here's my "sorry for not updating" post, with random fluff from this verse's future.**

Michael was sprawled out across the bed on his stomach, feet in the air, while he read his battered copy of _The Sword in the Stone_. Fisk was certain he'd read that book until he memorized it and then keep reading until it pulverized into ash and dust. And then he'd buy a new copy.

Fisk, meanwhile, pretended to reread _The Hound of the Baskervilles_ and listened to his music while secretly stealing glances at Michael – the shirt on his back had slipped up a bit, revealing a strip of skin on his lower back – and watching the way his entire face lit up as he read.

One of his looks lingered too long, because Michael's eyes flicked up and met his, and then he grinned slowly. Before Fisk could jump away, Michael had rolled off the bed and snatched Fisk's MP3 player. He set it on the speaker and then beamed, wide and brilliant, as the sound of Marina and the Diamonds filled the bedroom.

"Give it back," Fisk grumbled, but Michael was taller than him and Fisk spent maybe a little too much time reading books and not quite enough time doing fencing and gymnastics. Fisk groaned. "Miiiike."

"Nonnyyyyyy," Michael replied, in the same whiny tone.

"What are you—" Fisk broke off and dove for the music player again as Michael started looking through his music library.

Michael snorted. "Taylor Swift? Marina, I get, but _Taylor Swift_? You're such a softie!"

"Shut up! I _like_ her, okay?"

"Do I have competition?" Michael asked, fighting his grin now and failing.

"I have as much of a chance with her as you have with T H White, and he's dead, and old, and crusty, and _dead_."

Michael grinned and leaned down to kiss Fisk. "I happen to like your taste in music. I mean, it sucks, but it's cute."

"Oh, because rock ballads are absolutely superior to actually decent singers like Florence Welch or Hayley Williams," Fisk grumbled.

"_Precisely_," Michael kissed him again.

"Jerk," Fisk breathed. "Bed?"

"Definitely."


	3. Chapter 2 (EFF MY HIATUS)

**Gratuitous use of free will vs determinism. Dedicated to Emma, who accidentally reminded me that because this fandom is a widdle baby fandom, people read everything they can get a hold of, and that includes my rubbish. Plot twist: I'm the writer!**

Two weeks later they reached that point where teachers decide it was okay to start assigning projects. Psych had a joint presentation on free will vs determinism; Gov assigned every group of two a different government from throughout the ages; Physics was a three page paper on Newton's laws; English was their reading of _The Scarlet Letter_; Calc was yet to yield any projects, but the complicated worksheets they got every class was more than enough; and Theatre was already starting on the fall play.

"I hate this play," Michael griped to Kathy when they sat down.

"I think it's hilarious. And Rudy is really good."

He scowled. "I wish Rosamund would stop mooning over him."

"Isn't she like your cousin or something?" Judith asked, playing with her pen.

"No, just our god-sister; she lives with us because her parents died when she was little. Car crash," Kathryn explained. "Ooh! Kara! Make Rosamund our cousin," She called to Kara, a beautiful girl who wrote stories nearly constantly.

"Thanks," Kara nodded slowly and set down her knitting for her notebook. "It'll have to be… second cousin, though."

"Come on, get in here," Makejoye called down the hallway to Fisk.

He loped in just as the bell rang and flashed a fake grin at the other students. Judith hummed in concern.

"What happened to you?" Michael said bluntly.

Fisk stared at him, then looked at Judith. "See?"

Judith waved a hand absently and returned to her script reading. Kathryn leaned towards her. "See what?" She whispered.

"That I can't ask Michael for help with challenging the system—he's too direct. And loud."

Judith realised with a jolt she'd just told a Gifted girl she wanted to subversively attack the current social system and had a moment of panic before she read Kathryn's face and established that the girl A, already knew and B, wasn't unduly concerned.

"Can I help?" Kathy asked.

Now, there were three ways Judith could respond. She could tell Kathryn that it had to be a boy. She could tell her that she was too young to handle what Judith was planning. Or she could say—

"If you'd like," Judith answered coolly.

Meanwhile, Michael was trying to drag the truth out of Fisk about why he was late and acting strangely, and Fisk was becoming more and more snappish as he deflected his question. Finally, "I got into a fight, alright?"

"Why?" Michael asked.

Judith arched an eyebrow at Michael and Kathy's forehead became rather acquainted with her palm.

"Oh, yeah, I wanted to get into a fight," Fisk retorted angrily. "I'm just so uncivilised."

"You are one snippy bastard," Joe Potter observed.

Judith shot him a razor sharp glare. "And _you_ are eavesdropping."

He ducked his head and she returned to watching Fisk bristle silently at Michael as he hid himself behind a book and wondered whether she should mediate. But it seemed Michael was dealing with it himself, because he reached out and curled his fingers around Fisk's wrist. "My intention was not to imply that you chose to fight. I was merely concerned that something had happened to make you a target." He was all wide-eyed and earnest like a puppy—Fisk hates dogs.

"You happened, idiot." Fisk snapped, pulling his arm free. "I'm only a target because you follow me around like a lost puppy. People like you do not hang out with people like me."

"People are free to do as they will."

"No, they really aren't. People are a product of their pasts and their genetic structure. You grew up in huge house on the nice side of town. I grew up in cramped townhouse, sharing a room with my sister. You have magica in your genes. I don't. Our lives wouldn't have even crossed if Mrs. Cecil weren't so interested in her sick twisted psychology experiment."

"Then why are we friends?" Michael challenged.

Judith let her head slump back against the chair. Her little brother had never had a friend before, and he was going to stomp all over—

"Because you're a stubborn bastard?" He volunteered. "Seriously, even if I did manage to get rid of you, _Judith_ would act like I'd kicked a puppy."

—he'd just admitted to having a friend. Judith grabbed Kathy's arm, and they shared an excited look.

"Alright, you lot, stop socialising and let's get to work," Mr. Makejoye interrupted.

"Everyone stop!" Camille said loudly. "There's a regular Skittle in my Wild Berry Skittles." She held up the offending orange candy.

Kathy cocked her head to one side. "But you love Skittles."

"I opened these Skittles with the expectation of being _wild_. This is not _wild_."

"Perfect solution," Fisk said, and ate the Skittle.

Camille fished out her phone. "I'm calling them."

The entire theatre group paused and watched as she dialled the number, even Mr Makejoye.

"I'm on hold," She hissed.

"Well, while we wait for this gripping scene to unfold, let's get back to work," Makejoye said. "Rosamund, Judith, Rudy, and Joe – onstage, all of you." No one had the heart to remind him that they didn't have a stage, just a cleared space at the front of the classroom.

Judith sighed and climbed to her feet, mostly just thankful that she was Hermia and not Helena. Joe wasn't her favourite person in the world, and she wasn't looking forward to the sappiness in general, but at least she didn't have to go through the creepy ass spaniel routine. Sadly, that wasn't much of an act for Rosamund. Rosamund swooned once. Legitimately _swooned_. Who the hell _swoons_ in the 21st century?

Apparently, just Rosamund.

"Don't you just _love_ this play Rudy? Isn't it so _romantic_? I wish we were doing Romeo and Juliet."

It took everything Judith had to not throttle her, and she ended up making a tiny whimpering noise. If Rosamund were a character in a book, Judith would cry, because she had absolutely no agency – her life had revolved around her godfather, which had been overshadowed by Michael's epic crush on her, and that in turn shadowed by her new obsession with Rudy.

"We're not doing Romeo and Juliet because the entire world has failed to notice that it's a satire and instead romanticise double suicides," Judith snarked. Rosamund looked crushed.

"Act three, scene two, starting from "why should you think I woo in scorn"," Makejoye said.

The run-through went well enough, even with Rosamund mumbling most of her lines and Joe accidentally stubbing his toe on a crate and Judith pausing to make noises that suggested the entire world had failed her by placing her in this situation.

When Fisk and Michael were called up to play Oberon and Puck, the entire class was grinning. Even the boys seemed to be forgetting that they were reading lines and actually sounded like they were having a proper conversation. Fisk sounded somewhat bitter upon the words, "Jack shall have Jill", but Michael was too busy trying to sit back down without making noise to notice what literally everyone else did: accidentally as it was, Fisk was playing Puck as if he were nursing an unrequited crush on Oberon.

Judith met Kathy's eyes and they shared a grin.

"Yes!" Camille yelled suddenly.

They all stared. "What?" She said, shrugging. "I'm getting a coupon code for a free new pack of Wild Berry Skittles."

"Our Titania focuses on the important things," Makejoye said drily.

**I don't even know what that was, but here!**


End file.
